Cracks and missing pieces
by LinnyChu
Summary: Loneliness and memories together hurt more than each separate. Oneshot.


**A/N:**

Alright... I am so sorry for uploading this.

Kind of.

I wrote this after the fan art from 'Hubedihubbe' on deviantart called 'In silent moments', so pretty much none of the credit goes to me but actually putting this into words. I am not sure if anyone even did it before I did, nor do I care, honestly.

I am not sure if I made England a bit OOC... but I just think it fits the situation. 

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Cracks and missing pieces

Shed and divided into pieces, the mirror stood in the attic, untouched for years. It's beautiful golden frame shined even in the darkness of the room. Broken and not good enough for use, and even worse for decoration, the mirror was worth for nothing. It was just there, in the attic, collecting dust. The top of the golden mirror was covered with a plain cloth, hiding the cracks, which it received years ago.

The mirror, though, was on the furthest end of the attic, set in a corner where it isn't visible when entering the room. It wasn't alone either. Pictures, really old and beautiful, were leaning against a wall, untouched for years and their age making the colours pale. A sad sight for such beauty, indeed.

Weeping, sobbing and soft murmurs filled the quiet room. A man, who appeared to be no older than 23, was sitting in front of the golden mirror holding a white shirt in hand. Said man hugged the shirt, putting a piece of it to his cheek. "Why…" He mumbled. "Why…" He repeated as tears streamed down his face and landed on the soft material of the shirt.

Green eyes were closed and teary, the man cried. He cried for the past, for what he has lost, and for his own misery. He cried, all his emotions obviously written on his features. He was alone.

Alone, not only in the dusty attic, but his life as well.

He wore a white shirt of his own, stained in dust and tears with plain green pants, dirty and used. The man sat on the floor in front of the golden mirror, holding his sitting position for hours now. He sobbed. And sobbed… but the tears were endless.

Dead, the night was dark, and from a hole in the roof, the man could see stars. Shimmering, shining… He closed his eyes, the sobbing finally stopped, but the tears did not.

Nor would they ever.

The man, sitting still with the shirt on his cheek and tears in his eyes looked up. "Why?"He repeated yet again in a broken voice, just to receive no answer. Just to receive the same answer he got all those years ago. Just for the tears and sobbing to begin again.

_"All I want, is my freedom." _He heard a voice in the back of his mind. _"I'm no longer a child…"_ He felt like his throat was burning. Like his eyes will melt, and like his mind will stop all together. He heard the strong voice, ringing in his ears like the very day he first heard it. The words stung at his heart, and the meaning burned his very being. _"…nor your little brother." _

With that, he looked next to himself, into his own reflection in the mirror. He frowned and followed a single tear glide down his face with his blurred gaze, just to fall off his chin and for another to follow. He watched as the tears continued to form in his red eyes, and he let out a soft sob.

But, once he blinked, the mirror changed. The dusty wooden floor he sat on didn't seem so dark anymore. The dust was not there, and his eyes were not red. Nor was he frowning. No, he was smiling in the mirror. He saw himself, his sandy blond hair messy as always, and his eyes shining with happiness. And, in his arms.

And in his arms was the very reason for his current sorrow. Instead of the plain white shirt, there was a child in his arms. Clinging to him and smiling brightly.

Small and slightly chubby, the sunny blond toddler laughed. The laugh, which the crying man could not hear anymore. It rang in his ears, it erased his pain for the moment, washed away his fears, his guilt, his sorrow, his anger and his loneliness. It washed away the memories, which were long history and it blurred his current reality.

The laughter continued, and the man just cried more.

In the mirror, he smiled, had his eyes closed and hugged the child closely to his chest. "America…" The man in the mirror whispered as he continued to hold the child in his protective embrace.

"America…" He whispered again, his voice gentle with a bit of bitterness, but yet so, oh so, full of love. He touched the surface of the cool mirror and watched as the illusion melted, and finally disappeared.

_"I remember when you were great…"_

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_That's it! *Goes to hide in a corner with his dog*. _

Thanks for reading~


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